


On The Eve Of Battle

by CariadWinter



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, First Time, Frottage, I think? Because of Peter?, M/M, Slash, Underage Sex... maybe, frienemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/pseuds/CariadWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written for lizsol and for the livelongnmarry auction on LJ.  Thank you luv and enjoy!  Thanks also to DK who is my most awesome beta :D  *lix*</p>
    </blockquote>





	On The Eve Of Battle

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for lizsol and for the livelongnmarry auction on LJ. Thank you luv and enjoy! Thanks also to DK who is my most awesome beta :D *lix*

Evening fell over the forest of Narnia. Twilight had always been Peter’s favorite time of day there. A light mist covered the forest floor, the air was cool without being chilly, and a light wind ruffled his hair. In the gloaming, silver filtered down through the treetops and refracted in the mist. Everything sparkled and shimmered. If he closed his eyes, he could all but feel the air around him shift as the wood sprites danced along the wind and the fauns played their flutes beside the flickering warmth of a burning fire. Narnia held more magic for him than any other place in his life, even now when everything seemed still and hopeless.

Going out alone was dangerous, he knew, but still Peter continued deeper into the wood. He moved with a light foot, careful not to make too much noise. With every day that they remained in Narnia, his heart grew heavier and heavier. Had it been his choice, he would have never left their people as he had. To have them fade into nothingness, to live in fear of their lives because they’d had no one there to defend them… it enraged him. The guilt he felt because of things long since past all but suffocated him. Now they were back, war was upon them again, and their numbers were so few. Their chances of winning were slim, but if nothing else the Narnians had heart and hope. They would follow. And be it victory or death, he would stand proudly at their sides.

Before he knew it, he’d reached the drop off where Lucy had seen Aslan the first time since their return. He moved carefully to the end and peered down into the dark depths. Somewhere below, shallow water raced over a riverbed. Peter turned his face to the heavens then and drew in a deep breath. His heart eased a bit as his lungs expanded and he closed his eyes.

They had tried; tried so very hard to take the Telmarine castle. Miraz hadn't even been smarter than them. He would have fallen so easily had Caspian just stuck to the plan. That wasn't what weighed on his heart though. When Peter opened his eyes, tears glittered along the rims. If he had only signaled a retreat when things had gone wrong, their soldiers would still be alive. They were dead now, he was sure of it, and it was his doing. Stubborn and prideful to the end… unwilling to let Caspian have one inch. 

Facing Jadis again had been the last straw. Nothing made sense anymore. Caspian at least had the excuse of not knowing what sort of fate he’d been tempting. Peter had known though. He’d known and he’d nearly broken. If it hadn't been for Edmund…

“What do I do now?” he whispered into the growing dark and half expected, half hoped for Aslan to emerge from the shadows with the answer. 

“We keep fighting,” came a soft reply from behind him and Peter’s sword was in his hand before he’d fully made the turn. Caspian stood propped against the nearest tree, arms crossed over his chest.

Peter slowly dropped his sword to his side and he didn't know whether to feel angry or relieved. “What do you want?” he snapped out, deciding upon anger and he sheathed his sword as he turned back to the drop off.

Caspian tilted his head to the side a little; never taking his eyes off of Peter’s half silhouetted form. “I saw you sneak off,” he replied. “You shouldn't be out here alone. None of us should. What if Miraz’s men capture you?”

“Then they’d catch me wouldn't they,” was Peter’s curt reply and he turned to face him again. “What do you care? It would give you everything you wanted then wouldn't it? I’d be out of the way and you could take over. That’s all your lot knows how to do anyway.”

Caspian was moving then, lips curled back from gritted teeth, as he stalked towards him. “I don’t have to take anything!” he snarled out and pushed himself up into Peter’s face. “You’re foolish enough to charge in half blind and not know enough to retreat when it’s time! You’re doing a fine job of trying to get yourself killed all on your own.”

Blind fury crashed over Peter and he swung out, landing a solid blow to Caspian’s jaw. Caspian stumbled backwards, the world spinning for a moment. Everything went fuzzy around the edges and he only had a second to react as Peter’s next blow came hurtling towards him. His knees bent, dropping him down a few inches, and he rammed his shoulder forward hard. Peter gasped, catching the full force of the blow in his gut and all the air was pushed from his lungs. The next thing he knew, his back was hitting the ground; his head snapped back hard and little slivers of light were dancing before his eyes.

Caspian fell with Peter, tackled him and then pulled himself up, pinning him about the hips. His left hand shoved down hard into Peter’s chest and he pulled his right hand back into a fist. Peter simply blinked a few times, looking dazed, and then glared up at him. Caspian’s fingers curled in the soft fabric of Peter’s tunic. Fighting… that’s all they’d done from the start and it was getting them nowhere. He slowly dropped his hand down to his side, but kept him pinned so that Peter wouldn't be encouraged to try and continue the brawl. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked, his voice soft and a bit breathless from their tumble.

Peter’s jaw tightened, teeth grinding together, and he turned his eyes to the canopy of trees above them. So many answers to one small question and yet none of them seemed appropriate enough. Jealousy was at the forefront. Caspian was born into what Peter had simply stumbled into and then fought so very hard for… only to lose it against his will. It was cruel, the things that life granted you and then stole away. 

“You stole my life,” he mumbled quietly and huffed out a shaky breath. “Everything you are, everything you bring with you… it’s not right. I nearly died fighting to get what you had given to you. I didn't choose to leave. I would have never chosen to leave. I love Narnia. It’s the only place that’s ever really… felt like home. And you... Prince Caspian,” he spat the words like some vile acid that had been spilt upon his tongue. “You never have to worry about wandering too far one day and having it all ripped away. No, if we win this war… Narnia will always be yours and you've done nothing… _nothing_ … to earn her.”

A small frown tugged at the corners of Caspian’s lips and he shook his head. “I won’t apologize for being born a prince. I didn't choose my life either. My parents were who they were. I was meant to be who I am, just as you were meant to be who you are. Do you think that I enjoy all of this? Do you think I asked for my uncle to kill my father? For him to try and kill me? I had no choice but to run if I wanted to live. I didn't come in search of Narnia. She found me.”

Caspian reached down and clutched Peter’s chin so that he could make him look at him. “I was never trying to steal your life from you, Peter. I want to make things right, the same as you. And I’m sorry that you were taken away from Narnia. That was a hundred years before my time though and I won’t let you blame me for it. You’re here now though, with us… who says that you ever have to leave again?”

Peter looked up into Caspian’s eyes, not by choice at first, but when his hand finally fell away from his chin, he didn't look away. The anger bled out of him at his words and he suddenly felt so very tired. Caspian was right; none of this had been chosen by either of them. To continue on as they had been was pointless. Still… war loomed on the horizon and a feeling of discontent lingered in his heart.

“We can’t win this war,” he mumbled softly.

Caspian tilted his head to the side and leaned down a bit. In the dim light, Peter’s eyes glistened a dark blue. Without the brute fierceness of his anger to fuel him, his features were soft and delicate. Peter’s lips were full and pink, the line of his cheekbones soft, and his eyes were round and doe-like. He felt warm and solid beneath him and Caspian found that what he was feeling now would probably birth into one very bad idea.

“We can try,” he replied, his voice equally as soft, and then leaned down to capture Peter’s lips with his own.

Peter froze, his whole body going tense and he blinked large, stunned eyes up at the man kissing him. _Caspian_ was kissing him. He was _kissing_ him. He couldn't move at first, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Then suddenly it was all moving very quickly. He brought his hands up to push him away, pressed them flat to his chest and opened his mouth to ask him just what the bloody fuck he thought he was doing. That’s when a warm, sweet tongue slipped into his mouth and his eyes rolled a little.

Caspian twisted his head to the side, taking full advantage of Peter’s lips parting for him and he delved inside. His tongue licked slowly across his companion’s. It smoothed against the top of his mouth and then searched out every small, hot, wet inch of him. His hand came up to fist in the soft strands of dark blond hair and he groaned at the taste of him. He tasted of fresh fruit and peppermint. The hand he’d fisted into his tunic slipped down, caressed down the line of Peter’s side until he was gripping his hip.

Peter’s heart slammed up into his ribs and his eyes finally fluttered shut. His fingers twisted into the front of Caspian’s tunic and he opened his mouth further for his insistent tongue. The kiss turned frantic then, harsh and searching. His heart moved to pound in his ears and he ate back at him. Peter’s tongue pressed against Caspian’s, fighting for dominance. Their teeth clicked together, catching on lips and one of Peter’s hands came up to fist tightly in Caspian’s hair. Both were panting heavily through their noses and the rising heat between them stained their cheeks with a whisper of pink.

Unsatisfied, Peter bent one leg up and pushed off the ground, rolling them. Caspian grunted as his back hit the ground and his hand at Peter’s hip slipped around to encircle his waist. Peter groaned, breaking the kiss, and he snapped his hips forward. The world had narrowed to just them, chests heaving, hearts pounding, and at the feel of Caspian’s half-hard prick grinding against his own, Peter thrust against him again. He’d never done this before. Sure, he’d snogged a girl here or there and he’d even gotten a rather nice wank job from one of Susan’s friends… but that’s where his experience ended. It felt so good though, hot and hard and grinding against another bloke.

Caspian groaned and pressed his head back into the ground beneath him. He spread his legs further so that Peter sank fully against him and bent his legs up at the knees. His hands went to Peter’s hips and every hard thrust against him had his prick swelling that much faster. He’d had sex once, with a stable maid. It had consisted of a fair amount of fumbling around and him shouting out his orgasm far too soon. The attraction he’d felt for her was nothing compared to what he felt and had been feeling for Peter since the first few days after he’d met him.

The attraction hadn't been instant, but watching him… everything Peter did was with such passion and virile intensity that he’d found himself wanting him more and more. He’d been curious about other men, but had never been intimate with one. His uncle would have preyed upon that bit of knowledge with vigor. Peter’d hated him though and he’d been angry and jealous in his own right. This, here and now, just hadn't seemed possible. Another hard, insistent thrust between his legs proved to him just how possible it was though and another loud groan rolled across his lips. Much more and he’d make a mess of himself in his trousers.

Caspian’s hands closed tightly around Peter’s hips to still him and he was rewarded with an indignant growl. Peter tried to thrust against him again, desperate for friction, and this time it was Caspian who pushed and flipped them quickly. He pinned Peter to the ground, keeping his legs from rising with his own, and he reached up to grab his wrists and pin his arms above his head.

“Have you done this before?” he asked, breathing still ragged, but tone firm.

Peter stilled then and swallowed around the thick lump forming in his throat. He looked up into Caspian’s dark eyes and shook his head no. “Fooled around a bit, but never… never with a bloke. You?”

Caspian smiled, leaned down to nip at Peter’s full, swollen lips and then shook his head. “You’re the first,” he replied and then nipped at the corner of his mouth. “My very pretty, ridiculously stubborn first.” Caspian’s legs pushed down between Peter’s and he shoved them apart.

Peter grunted, shoved his hips up to try and flip them again, but was met with the amazing friction of Caspian thrusting down against him. “Ugh!” he moaned, eyes rolling back into his skull.

Caspian gathered Peter’s wrists into one hand and shoved the other down between them. “I don’t fancy making a mess in my trousers. Wet, sticky leather isn't exactly comfortable.” Peter only made a soft noise in response and shuddered when he felt the laces of his trousers being pulled at.

Caspian pulled until the laces of Peter’s trousers were undone and pushed the folds away, allowing his swollen prick to spring up and thump against his stomach. Peter gasped, pushed his hips up at the bite of cool air against his sensitive skin, and lifted his head to look down between them. Caspian was unlacing his own trousers and soon enough, his hardened prick was free and standing up proudly between them.

Slowly, Caspian pressed his hips forward, lining them up together and when they touched his breath caught in his throat. He began to rock against him, their pricks sliding against each other and the feel of him was nearly enough to have him coming right there and then. He hastily pushed Peter’s tunic up his stomach to his chest and then had to brace himself with his knees so he could pull it off completely. Peter’s hands were already yanking at his and within moments they found themselves naked from the waist up and rocking madly against each other.

Peter’s hands went to the backs of Caspian’s shoulders and he dug his nails into warm flesh as the most amazing sensations rocketed up his spine. Caspian braced himself with one hand against the ground, shoved one knee up a little and reached between them to fist both of their pricks and squeeze. Peter cried out beneath him, arched up into the touch and Caspian groaned at the sight of him. He was so beautiful this way. Caspian’s hand worked quickly, squeezed at their bases and then twisted up their lengths to squeeze their heads together. Precome oozed out over his fingers and he slicked it back down their shafts before picking up a quick, needy rhythm.

“Oh god you feel so good,” Peter groaned and couldn't help but thrust his hips up from the ground. Caspian’s hand was large and hot and worked him brilliantly. The feel of them pressed together had his pulse racing and all his earlier troubles melted away. It was too much too fast and before he knew it, Peter was shouting out his orgasm and spilling his seed over Caspian’s fingers and his stomach. 

Caspian’s eyes drank in the sight of Peter lost in pleasure and his own end rushed up to meet him. He exploded across his lover’s trembling body with a shout of Peter’s name and continued to pump them both until they began to soften in his hand. Arm shaking, everything shaking, he lowered himself to lie on top of him and hummed when Peter’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

They lay there for a long time, wrapped around each other, listening to the sounds of the forest and their own slowing hearts. When their combined essence had cooled and all but dried between them, Caspian lifted his head and placed a soft kiss to Peter’s lips. Peter smiled sleepily up at him and lifted his hand to brush back through the still damp strands of his dark hair. 

“We’ll have to talk about this later won’t we?” he asked and Caspian nodded, then pressed his head into Peter’s hand.

“Later,” Caspian replied softly and sighed as he laid his head back down onto Peter’s shoulder. “Let’s just enjoy the moment for now and then get through the war. Afterwards… perhaps then we can… figure out what this is.”

“Afterwards,” Peter echoed, his heart suddenly lighter and heavier all at once and closed his eyes to find a sated sleep rushing up to meet him.


End file.
